The Dragon Slayer Teaser

With war approaching, two sides prepare themselves for battle. Despite being outnumbered, rebels march to war against their oppressors with firm leaders. Can they find victory?

The Dragon Slayer Trailer...

 

- (The scene starts with financers along with company logos who have put their resources into the project for the last how many years. Each name blinks on screen in their own unique, special effected way that allows them to stand out. As the last of the titles fade away into the dark, silence ensues, creating a ominous kind of atmosphere for the viewer to wonder what on earth is going to happen next. The possibilities are endless and only one action can actually occur to break the tension building up along with the increased heart beats. Something finally does come from the dark. It is a voice that, with time, sounds like it belongs to that of a man. His tone is one of wisdom, knowledge, as well as historical. It is the voice of a storyteller, historian, and recorder all rolled into one. It is with this man’s voice that the viewers travel with him back into the age he begins to describe and, though he cannot be seen, his emotions are clearly revealed.)

 

- Voice: “Delandi... That is the title of a loving goddess who sacrificed herself for a continent that soon afterwards came to name itself after her for her ultimate sacrifice. This act was to be an inspiration, a promise for prosperity, when the future arrived.”

 

- (The darkness is driven away slowly as a barely living candle melted down blinks forth. Its slight illumination allows people to see a old desk littered with dozens of aged books, novels, documents too with brown specks of dust gliding to and fro over them. The focus is directed to a thick book that is opened to a random page. On this certain page are many words in a foreign language, elf words, that look to be more like symbols than letters. Amid these unintelligible sentences is a kind of miniature picture of a scene. It depicts the goddess herself, Delandi, holding a familiar staff with a spear head. She has unrivaled beauty, a graceful figure, with white hair framing her gorgeous features. Even as a sketch, her gray eyes shine forth.)

 

- Voice: “The future was to be greater than the past or so it was believed. This was to be the grandest age after the fall of the dragon king, Geddon-”

 

- (Another page in the book is revealed when a human hand shows itself from the vast shadows all around to turns it. A different scene, drawn out again, is shown in Delandi’s place. Rearing up with his four wings stretched wide, a dark dragon of enormous size looms over a group of four in the foggy gloom of something like a dream. If not for the light they cast before the beast, the figures would be invisible in his shadow. This serves as an unspoken message. The light cannot be beaten by the dark. The dark cannot die to the light. Neither can survive without the other.)

 

- Voice: “-fell to the goddess along with the three first blessed mortals she trusted above all others throughout the continent.”

 

- (Again, the hidden human turns the pages of the book he observes in the darkness while thinking to himself. He pauses when arriving at the records of an elf who almost rivals the splendorous appearance of Delandi. Her raven black hair, even though askew, terrifically reinforces her angelic expression along with her emerald eyes. Her delicate body is donned in white armor that shimmers like the water’s surface in the light with a ragged cape billowing upon her back. In her left hand she limply holds a regal longbow of whitewood. In her other hand is Delandi’s gracious staff.)

 

- Voice: “And, though they were powerful enough to lead the mortal armies to victory and claimed many of the dragons’ lives along the way to win back their homeland, only one survivor endured the dragon king’s wrath while the others perished. It so happens that that same survivor created the Order today, meant to keep the balance, that is so harshly rejected.”

 

- (The elf maiden’s face in the picture is shown.)

 

- Voice: “Vanille Everglade. First blessed of the mortals, queen of the elves, ruler of Lantier, keeper of the order, and my friend.”

 

- (The elf queen vanishes when the pages are turned again as the shadowy human seeks further information from his items. He seems to not find anything else. Giving a sigh, he pushes aside the current novel before him to seize another. Yellow dust puffs up in gasps as he goes about his business. He continues to think while doing so.)

 

- Voice: “Vanille Everglade became the next goddess over this spared land. Though she would not nor ever be Delandi, just as the goddess never could have achieved what the god of creation did, Peace, the elf queen brought much benefit to everyone everywhere. Her rule along with the actions of the Lantierian Order kept chaos at bay.”

 

- (The human sets aside his current book again to grab another from somewhere. He makes more dust dance about.)

 

- Voice: “The continent of Delandi left the bloody Age of Dragons to enter what was hopefully to be the Age of Mortals. Happiness was abounds. Riches showed themselves from underground. Nature thrived after recovery. Brotherhood came first over much.”

 

- (The focus is drawn to where the pages are being turned under the stare of the mysterious human looking for things known only to him. He flips through a list of things showing different species. There are portraits depicting giants, griffins, dragons, demons, lizdra, jackal, and rabba.)

 

- Voice: “That was two centuries ago, however. Brotherhood is lacking. Love is abused. Gain is only for one’s self instead of for all. It seems that the ways of chaos somehow slipped through the nets of the order despite their hardest efforts. Yet, this is not a repeat of how the dragon’s own fell into corruption.. No, we are not even close to that.”

 

- (The longest pauses in speech are at the pages showing what appear to be humans as well as the dwarves afterwards. The hidden human’s sapphire blue eyes gaze over the pictured races for a while before flipping past with a sarcastic exhale.)

 

- Voice: “Humans and dwarves brought about the stone headed revolution against those who had done them no ill. They twisted the intentions of the order due to jealousy, hatred, along with selfishness that finally riled the common citizenry. Thus, the keepers of the balance along with their supposed evils hid themselves away in the eastern forests without hesitation that came to be called Lantier.”

 

- (The human stops searching through the elf words altogether to think through things.)

 

- Voice: “It became a slight joke to the elves that we no longer lived in a time of benevolence but greed. Reason had been clouded by arrogance. So...”

 

- (The camera focuses onto the human’s finger as it brushes past a set of elven words on the present page. It is a trio, set at the top, enlarged.)

 

- Voice: “Delandi’s peoples entered an Age of Ignorance instead of Mortality.”

 

- (A pause passes for the hidden human.)

 

- Voice: “The mortals decided they no longer needed order keepers. They could keep the peace themselves. That belief quickly changed when the return of dragon kind became clear. The dragons felled eastern Kentarn, the province of humans, in a matter of months due to their stubborn lords whom had grown fat off their own indulgence. Defense against the onslaught wasn’t an option. Retreat was. As a result of their lies... humanity lost what it held dear and was forced into the northern mountains alongside the dwarves.”

 

- (There are cries of battle from some untold battlefield as well as the roars of dragons laying waste to a settlement. The human in the shadows closes the book he looks upon, then glances around at his study like surroundings. There is nothing for a time. Then a brilliant light makes itself known when shades are ripped back from a large window. The shadows flee before the illumination to allow everything to be seen. As suspected, the darkened room is something similar to a study. Sunshine from outside is what brightens everything. As for whom opened the shades, it was a man in his late twenties with brown hair smoothed back. His fit body is donned by a loose tunic of white along with brown leggings. His face is finally fully revealed, showing a handsome soul with a firm expression as well as goatee on the chin. He’s a strapping fellow and his rounded ears show he’s human.)

 

- (His reason for looking outside his residence is made clear when the camera shows what it is that he observes. Noise slowly becomes hearable as an underground city goes about its business with dwarves and humans cooperating together. They do business, build structures, argue, laugh, and live together. The man speaking resides in a dwarven house lined between several other homes. He does not look outside for long but turns away to sweep through his messy den towards a door exiting elsewhere.)

 

- Voice: “There are truths that this land didn’t know for years until just recently. They are just coming to realize the situation at hand is due to their corrupted nobles and even themselves for believing the tales of elven corruption. The order never did them wrong yet they forced them into hiding. With the coming of the Ignorant Age, so came an opening for the dragons. Now, today, Delandi cries out for the lantierian order again.”

 

- (The human scholar passes through the door leading him out of his study into a hall. As he finishes with “lantierian order”, he walks by a number of hieroglyphics carved into the passage’s walls on both his sides. The camera focuses upon a unique symbol that seems to stand out. It is of a large star surrounded by many smaller ones. The man hesitates at this. He glances towards the starry design before him, then looks at the back of his own right hand where the same faded emblem stands out from his flesh. His blue eyes squint. Then he moves forward again towards where the end of the hallway rests as if awaiting him.)

 

- Voice: “The question at the moment is... will the elves come back? True, it is their duty to keep the balance. However, when they tried to do so, the land pushed them away with harm. Yet...”

 

- (The scholar opens the door at the end of the hall he walks to reveal an armory. It proves to be his own personal one where he strides among his gear in deep thought. It is as if he is not even there in all honesty but elsewhere. He grips the handle of a longsword on its shelf to unsheathe it from its brown leather holster with a ring. In the sunlight, its body gleams as if it is made of water itself in solid form. The man watches his weapon glint without show of awe or emotion. He just remains serious faced.)

 

- Voice: “Yet, I believe as the many who have come to suffer at the hands of these new dragons that the elves have not abandoned the land to its fate and, where there is belief, there is hope. With this hope came the resistance. With the resistance came the Loyalists, those who now occupy the northern Ornamarn mountains presently and fight alongside the dwarves for another bright future in the name of the goddess.”

 

- (The man lowers the sword from eye level to his waist with a breath. His eyes gradually move from scanning the stone floor to where a wooden mannequin sits. It rests away from the rest of the armory, in its center, with a unique outfit covering it. It wears a blue mage’s vest over a black tunic with black pants. A shoulder length cape of blue shelters the upper torso. Both shoulders, along with the chest underneath, are reinforced with silver armor plates along with both shins on the legs. The hands plus feet are protected by leather gloves and boots. The man stares at the assortment for a time.)

 

- Voice: “It is the belief that keeps this rebellion alive against the growing tyrant empire today. Some think it cannot last and they have a right to with their numbers greatly outnumbered by the enemy as well as their maneuvers taken from them. Little is available to the Loyalists. However, I know for a fact that hope will not die for these folk of the north.”

 

- (The man suits up in the mage’s outfit set on the mannequin before him with blank resolution. He firmly puts on his clothes, straps on his accessories, then finishes by sweeping his cape upon his shoulders. Finished, his full appearance is allowed to be seen to let everyone see him look impressive in the exotic uniform of purple-black. Suited up now for reasons known only to himself, the scholar turns to where a staff rests on its bracket on the armory wall. It is an odd piece maybe made from wood with a slim pole. Its head is adorned with evenly designed spines and, above those, is an impressive spear head. The man retrieves it from its resting spot, twirls it expertly about, then nods.)

 

- Voice: “They have survived much. Too much, in fact, to merely lose it all. A chance is all they need to not only boost their spirits but also allow them to show their worth like their ancestors of old and that time will come... I know it will and it is a shame that only I can.”

 

- (The sounds of horns along with many drums become audible in the scholar’s stone house. He sweeps out of his armory through other halls, down a flight of stairs, before actually stepping outside into the underground citadel recently shown. Before him, in the wide street, there are many armored soldiers comprised of both humans and dwarves. They march forward in many lines with lances held high, some adorned with banners showing dwarf or human royalty. The scholar spins his staff to a comfortable position for him to hold, then moves to join the forces moving out of the city. He melds in with their numbers to show only soldiers marching while being celebrated by the citizenry. Flower petals litter the air in celebration.)

 

- Voice: “I know a chance will come. It is the burden I have and will continue hold in my heart that I learned of many, many years ago. A messenger of peace will appear and, until then, I cannot attempt to disturb the course of the future. To do so would possibly taint the smallest chance of victory available...”

 

- (More horns bellow out along with the cheers of the surrounding populace to create a sense of pride. The massive forces of dwarves and humans march onwards in lines through the intense celebrations to where a immense set of stone gates rest. Several rhino, dwarf animals, are pushed into action to activate the mechanisms that power the gate into opening. With a mighty moan of stone scraping stone as well as the gears turning as expected, the doors for the underground citadel swing inwards until fully open to allow the armies to exit in style.)

 

- (The scholar is revealed to be at the head of the formations actually. He walks beside a mighty warhorse that bears a beautiful shield maiden. She wears a royal suit of steel armor as does her ride. Her topaz shaded eyes sparkle in the light like the steel does and her dark hair tied into a ponytail whips about when she looks to her comrade below. The scholar bows his head in respect. She does the same after realizing who he is, then focuses back onto trotting forth towards the darkened world outside the gates. Beside the horse maiden is a pair of dwarfs in a wagon being pulled by a duo of rhinos. One is the king, distinguishable due to his broad crown. The descending petals never seem to end, even as the troops vanish out of sight line by line. The roars of the crowds remain audible when outside. The scholar keeps pace with the warhorse.)

 

- Voice: “Even so, I remain with the Loyalists and, with every passing day, I am aware that the hope that is to come to their aid in the future approaches ever closer when the sun sets to rise the next morning. I will not leave. I cannot. It would spell out doom for all if I did...”

 

- (The forces are shown in full strength from overhead, numbering in the several thousands at least with torches dotting their shadowed ranks every so often. The rhythmic rumble of each of their footsteps thunders out into the night.)

 

- Voice: “So... I remain, I fight, I endure, I suffer, I hope like all the rest here in the north for there is surely a savior on the way to cleanse this empire from the face of the continent. I have a reason to believe and, as long as I do, the Loyalists will have a purpose.”

 

- (The camera turns its lens away from the marching forces towards where they actually head. It is looks to be a burning area, brightly shining against the night’s darkness, with gray smoke visible before being engulfed by the shadows overhead. Everything fades. Silence commences so that the viewers may be thrown into uncertainty once more. A sudden sound of clashing metal meeting metal followed by sparks hits the observer. It is daytime now with a gray battlefield being shown. A northern human soldier from the shown army beforehand with shield in hand is defending himself from a southern barbarian adorned in animal skins, a belt of skulls on his waist, dual wielding crude axes. The barbaric warrior is screaming. The difference is his is in victory as his victim roars from being assaulted. An arrow catches the attacker on the shoulder whom gives out s shocked yelp, stares at the injury for a moment, then resumes beating his prey until another projectile hits him. In rage, the northerner knocks away the dying bandit. He looks to the archer that saved him, a woman posted on a higher position, then grabs a nearby sword to resume battle.)

 

- (The conflict the nearly killed soldier enters is one in the middle of a wrecked fortress with its walls crumbling, buildings nothing more than burnt remains, while littered with the still bodies of the less fortunate from both sides. The battle is shown from overhead at first, rotating to show the large scale of the armies fighting one another with boulders falling in from the sky launched by unknown siege engines. A dwarf is slashed aside by a barbarian who is next dispatched when another dwarf lances him with a charge. A northern archer is shot off his feet by a goblin who feathers another human before being shot himself. An armored troll, exactly in the middle of the fight, gives a bellow. This shows both its blunt fangs as well as its height of twelve feet over its nearby enemies. It kicks away a dwarf, slams aside a human, stomps another human, then roars again. A volley of arrows strike its face, causing more bellows from the beast. Enraged, the monster heaves a dead foe towards a party of northerners. They get roughly knocked over as a result. It becomes clear that the troll is a focus now as the horse maiden from earlier, beside the scholar, rides forth to command her troops better.)

 

- (A new presence makes itself known when, with a smash, a robotic like golem made of steel metal forces its way through a group of barbarians. Inside, the little dwarf pilot takes notice of the troublesome troll causing much harm to his allies. With a muttering of dwarfish, he orders the robot to charge forward with much ramming through enemy soldiers in the way. The troll, who sees the coming threat, enthusiastically roars. It grabs up dead bodies to hurl in retaliation where the golem lifts its large shield to defend. A living northerner is thrown screaming one time only to be silenced on impact. Finally both meet but the troll gets an upper hand at first when it throws the running dwarf mech aside easily. With quick thinking, the dwarf brings up the machine’s shield as the troll’s broad fist comes crashing down towards his piloting spot. A dent is made into the defense but nothing more. Still, the dwarf gives a surprised grunt. He shoves away the monster, rights the mech, then grabs up his blade. The troll knocks its dwarf opponent roughly about with its fists as he attempts to slash it. The horse mistress seizes a spear from a nearby trooper and, with good precision, spears the troll in its back. With an angry yelp, the monster turns to her. This proves to be the chance the dwarf looks for. He assaults his unwary foe with a slash of his sword, punches it back with his shield when it retaliates, then delivers the final blow with a powerful stab. The troll grunts, then comes crashing down with victorious cheers.)

 

- (In victory, the dwarf raises the golem’s arms up firmly while roaring inside his cockpit. The moment does not last long afterwards. A bolt of lightning connects with the open mechanism and, with a sparkle of sparks, the machine explodes into numerous parts before it too collapses into a heap. In confusion, the horse maiden looks about to find the source of the death dealer to the valiant dwarf. She seems him instantly for he doesn’t exactly try to hide himself for he is coming for her next. The dwarf’s killer is a human protected by ebony plate armor while covered by a black furred robe. His face is hidden away by a helm styled to resemble that of a drake’s head but his focus is clear. Acting as his aides are four similar knights dressed as he only lacking the same helmets. They bear sleek helms instead, rather plain ones in fact. Yet, where their master wields a longsword and magic, they use ominous halberds. In a flick of his fingers, the ebony knight’s men charge the horse rider’s.)

 

- (With battle cries, the northerners that serve the goddess charge the ashen armored southerners serving the dragons. The ebon warriors with halberds make no emotion shown as they spin their weapons in hand while closing the distance between themselves and the enemy. While there are four of them, there are nine loyalists. Both sides clash with the many sounds of metal connecting with metal instantly following. At first, it seems the northern fighters are able to hold their own. That sense quickly changes as the ebony warriors perform such fast martial arts, spins, along with jabs that fell their foes in a matter of seconds. With a slash or stab, the dragon knights end a loyalist’s life in a blink. A northern warrior defends himself with his shield, barely keeping pace with his dark armored adversary. One of his fellows charges the dark fighter, swings his sword forward, then topples when his opening allows his enemy to slash him. Another ebon fighter blocks a spearman’s stab, evades another man’s axe with a swish of his cloak, then slashes horizontally to kill them both with ease when they assault him again.)

 

- (The focus fixes onto the horse maiden whom look upon the dreadful scene with a grimace. She grits her teeth at the sound of her dying men. Another northerner falls to the black armored southern knights with a cry. An ebon warrior slashes an enemy aside, seizes a nearby longsword in the grime and hurls the weapon in the direction of another charging foe. The loyalist is roughly knocked off his feet as he is cleanly hit by the flying blade. Down on the bloody ground, he remains still. In a rage, the horse mistress yells out with her noble sword raised over her head in a position meant for those on foot. She urges her mount forward and, with a terrified grunt, the horse starts forth with a gallop that gradually grows in speed. An ebony knight raises his halberd to intercept the incoming rider and, in reply, the maiden swings her sword downwards with a scream. Her strike blocks the pole axe as well as knocks it aside. Her foe rolls away as the horse crashes past, flinging up wet mud while doing so. Another ashen armored fighter looks to cut off the charging horse but his intentions are interrupted when a loyalist ambushed him.)

 

- (The distance between the horse mistress and ebony master knight is closing fast. With a courageous spirit growing in her chest as well as a sparkle in her topaz eyes, the regal maiden gives out a fierce yell with her sword ready to smite her still enemy. The ebony armored dragon knight, master of the currently fighting four, merely remains motionless. Then, he ends the heroic moment quickly and simply. A symbol of criss-crossed lines colored blood red glow suddenly against the back of his right gauntlet. He raises this hand towards she who charges him and, with a flash of red, a crackling bolt of lightning fires from his open palm. The horse maiden’s steed gives a piercing cry of pain when the magic projectile hits it. At once, the animal stumbles with mud flying in every direction. It is dead before it hits the ground. With a shout of dismay, the mistress hits the ground roughly too. With her leg trapped beneath the now dead horse as well as her head bludgeoned by the impact of the ground, the loyalist maiden’s eyes blink in confusion. As they close, so does the desperate scene.)

 

- (The battlefield is brought back into focus when the horse rider regains thought. She finds herself being held as a hostage with two of the four ebon minions holding her firmly. With a desperate grimace, she struggles at once to free herself but is silence when a third ashen armored knight strikes her with his halberd’s handle. The master makes himself known after this, waving aside the violent minion. He shows where they stand is not on the field but on a kind of plateau among the ruins instead. It gives a full view of the conflict, showing the chaotic scale as well as the casualties dealt to both the sides fighting. There are hundreds dead. Blood runs in rivers along the wet ground as thunder sounds out in the sky. It appears that the loyalists are losing against the dragon forces now. Their ranks are being pushed back. The master knight of the group mockingly waves out to the result of battle before the shield maiden as if she should have know better than to even try. Then he purposefully extends his right hand where one of his followers bestows upon him the horse mistress’s sword. The master dragon knight looks over the finely forged piece of silver for a moment. Then he next points its point downwards at his hostage’s chest. The maiden struggles in further desperation.)

 

- (The ebon master knight brings the mistress’s own blade back in preparation. Time dramatically slows and the maiden’s eyes reflect the image of her enemy readying her final blow when, without warning, the darkly armored party are distracted by the entrance of a stranger in tattered armors. It proves to be the scholar from before, though his appearance is not as awesome as during that time. The marks of battle show on his uniform along with much staining of mud. He shows an expression of sheer determination as the foes he approaches slowly turn to him one by one. The dragon knight in charge lowers the silver sword he holds to his waist. He has the mistress turned from him towards the scholar. She shows both surprise plus fear at his arrival. He doesn’t move when urges him to flee. In response, he raises his unique staff towards the group holding her back. It is an obvious act of challenge. The ebony armored master does not reply to this inquiry. He, instead, unexpectedly moves to finish his hostage with her own blade with her back turned to him.)

 

- (Time slows to a dead halt to show the situation better. The free ebony knights move to kill the scholar as he has his glowing right hand, the star signed one, raised up towards their leader who seeks to stab the mistress through the heart. The scene remains frozen for a long matter of seconds as if everything are statues. The splatters of mud flying through the air, the billowing capes, the battle below, nothing moves. Then, everything does. With a roar, noise resumes when the silver blade is blasted from the dark knight’s grip with a flash of the scholar’s signaled right hand. Done with that, the loyalist mage spins his own staff as the approaching enemies do the same. They perform expert strikes, evasions, jumps, along with rolls but the scholar actually holds his own against the odds. He deflects a blow, assaults the opened minion, then ducks away from another slash. His staff, though made of some wood, holds well against the metal halberds it counters. Finally, with a swift jump, the loyalist leaps over one of his attackers and scores a final hit before landing. One knight is down. His companion still comes. For another moment, both warriors hold against each other. Then, the scholar blocks a slash which he follows by giving his enemy a swipe of his own. His attack cuts the minion across the face, who falls where the loyalist finishes him with a downward stab.)

 

- (Both of the horse mistress’s holders release her to engage her coming savior. They prove to be better with their foe already tired out from the last fight. Yet, he manages to dispatch another of the minions with a spell of fire from his magic. As the knight on fire attempts to put himself out, the scholar slashes him across the chest before kicking him away to roll down the plateau. One on one again, the other ebon knight seems hesitant to fight on. He is forced to anyway when the loyalist casts another spell. Lightning smashes the charging minion off of his feet harshly. With his chest plate smoking, melted slightly, he remains motionless. Now, it is truly one against the other as the scholar lifts his staff to point at the master knight holding his hostage by the hair. Sweeping his flapping cape aside, the ebon knight unsheathes a bold longsword instead of the halberds his guards had wielded. He throws aside the weak horse maiden with force to prep his sword. Silence commences. This followed by the expected battle.)

 

- (The dragon knight proves to be a worthy rival against the loyalist mage. He deflects the staff stabs as well as finds chances to strike during the fight with only a sword. Not only does he do this but he uses his cape as a distraction in place of a shield like any other blade user would use too. The scholar leaps away when slashed at, has his own stab knocked aside, then jumps over the ebon knight with swiftness when charged. He lands easily but is disarmed when his enemy powerfully slashes at him. Lacking a weapon, the mage looks for an alternative as his foe eagerly takes up his advantage. This proves to be short lived. The knight stabs which the mage evades with a timed sidestep. Grabbing onto his adversary’s weapon arm firmly, he punches the fighter’s helm, grunting with effort each time. Finally, the blade is let go and, now, both warriors are without weapons. Or so it’s thought. Instantly, the ebon warrior calls upon magic to serve him where his signed hand glows rose red again. He calls forth a torrent of fire which the loyalist barely shields himself from. Pinned by the magical assault, the mage looks to where his staff is out of reach. He resumes holding best he can, muttering a curse.)

 

- (As both magic wielders continue to cast their spells. The horse mistress regains her feet. She notices the desperate situation her rescuer is in and, after looking about frantically, scoops up her silver sword. She approaches slowly, limping all the while from where the horse fell on her, with blade at the ready to strike the back of the dragon knight. She makes it to him as the scholar’s shield begins to flicker, raises her blade wearily, but is knocked away by he who she aimed to end. Somehow, he knew she was coming and he turns his fiery hand upon her. This opening is what the loyalist mage needed. He lowers his defensive spell, calls the ebon knight’s blade forth from its spot where it flies into his hands, then stabs it into its owner. The knight gives a pained yell at the attack. He swings his fist at the mage who blocks and delivers a punch of his own aided by magic. A fistfight starts between them. Each successful blow sends sparks flying. The fighters find themselves at the edge of the plateau over the battlefield suddenly with the knight at its closest. The fight ends in the next moment. Both bearing magical scars from the punches, the magic users engage a last time. The knight punches. His foe dodges away, seizes the sword in the knight’s side, wrenches it out, then slashes. The ebon fighter stiffens with a gash across his very chest. He steps backwards to topple out of sight. To fall to his end.)

 

- (The scholar watches his enemy fall out of sight, then tosses the sword after him. With a pained expression, he turns to where his target is and helps her get back onto her feet with much struggle from them both. As the pair exchange nods, the scholar allows the mistress to stand on her own. She does well enough in walking, limping like beforehand, as her aid grabs up his staff. With a muttering to himself and glow of his right hand, the mage casts a spell that shoot a orb of light into the thundering skies overhead. It shrinks in size as it rises, then explodes at its peak like a firework at a carnival. Twice more he repeats this action. Then, he observes the loyalist forces begin to retreat with horns blowing. The orb of light was a signal to flee. The mission had been accomplished. The scholar appears to be gravely thoughtful of the events that had just taken place.)

 

- Voice: “People have a right to believe that there is no hope left for the Mortal Age. The coming of the second Dragon Age seems inevitable for, with each battle, fewer rebels are left to sustain the resistance.”

 

- (The scholar notices a ray of sunshine break through the gloomy clouds overhead. He watches it radiate for a moment before being blocked out of sight by the clouds again.)

 

- Voice: “Yet, there is hope where none think there is. I know it for a fact but that is not what I speak of. I am not the only one who believes there can be victory against this enemy still... There are many who will still believe after this chaotic sacrifice, despite the numbers lost.”

 

- (The scholar finally sweeps away from plateau’s tip towards where the maiden waits for him. As he nears her, the camera shows him from the front. No longer is he a proud looking citizen of the dwarven city but a grave survivor of war. Even so, there is a sense of victory along with hope in his every step as he walks forward.)

 

- Voice: “I am Augnus Neau. Advisor of the loyalists, right hand of Jessnica Shaffner, friend of Vanille Everglade, former member of the lantierian order, and believer in Delandi still. I will not stop fighting for the future. I will not die in the fields of battle. I will endure until the dragon slayer comes and help him or her bring back the Mortal Age.”

 

- (The scene ends with the scholar hiding the sight from view as his figure covers the camera. All becomes dark, the noise ceases, and the release date is shown.)

 

- End...

Author's Note

I hope this is how a screenplay goes. That or, duh, this is the way a script for a movie goes. Either way, this was a project I did for extra credit back in college and it was my first try actually at writing a script rather than an essay or book. As a matter of fact, this is a teaser for a trailer of a story I'm currently working on. I hope it was enjoyable enough for you.